


Eye of the Beholder

by Locknkey1



Series: Eye of the Beholder [4]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Assumed death of a loved one, Assumed murder, Attempted Murder, Blankets, Cats, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Character Death, Implied Conditioning, Implied Non-Consensual Body Modification, Kevin is bad at expressing himself, Kevin is hurt, Kevin needs a hug, M/M, Misunderstandings, No Beta, Other, Pain, Panic Attacks, Slavery, kevin is sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21701365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Locknkey1/pseuds/Locknkey1
Summary: Kevin wasn't technically a Strexcorp employee. According to his personal identification number he was somewhere between a cat and a coffee maker. So when Station Management buys him from the Smiling God, he doesn't know how to act like an actual human being.—————Triptych never happened and Cecil still hates Kevin. So when Cecil sees Kevin standing in a pool of blood, staring down at a limp body, he assumes the worst.—————AKA "Kevin is sad", "Cecil Misunderstands and is a Dick" or "Kevin means well but he needs a manual on how to be an actual normally functioning human but no one in Night Vale can write him one because they aren't actual normal human beings"*No one actually dies.
Relationships: Carlos & Cecil Palmer & Kevin, Carlos/Cecil Palmer, Charles/Kevin (Welcome to Night Vale), Kevin & Carlos, Kevin & Cecil Palmer, Kevin & Intern Maureen, Kevin/DBCarlos, Unknown future relationships
Series: Eye of the Beholder [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553263
Comments: 33
Kudos: 88





	1. Sold

**Author's Note:**

> I am new to the fandom please be kind.
> 
> If you see a word that looks like this XXXXXXX you should not and did not see it. It does not exist and if you acknowledge its existence... 
> 
> you won't get any pie.

"Hi~ Kevin~!" 

Kevin froze. With a deep breath and a quick prayer to the Light, he slowly turned around. 

"L-Lauren!?!" In his disbelief and shock, Kevin forgot about his self-imposed silence. His voice was small and rough as if he hadn't spoken in years. As the former Strexcorp vice-president watched Kevin stare at her in horror, a malicious Strexcorp smile stretched across her face.

"Kevin~?" Her head slowly tilted to the side.

"Y-yes?"

"Why are you just sitting on that rock? That isn't very productive, now is it?" The Strexcorp smile remained in place, but her eyes were filled with cruel mirth. The former radio host quickly stood up. His hands raised in surrender and supplications falling off his lips. 

"N-o. Please, I just-"

 **"Is it, Kevin?"** She demanded as an emotion that was not happy briefly flashed across her face. 

"No!" he yelped. 

"Now, Kevin, you know the rules. Unproductive employees are either re-educated or terminated. At first, the Smiling God wanted to let you go. However, one of his very powerful acquaintances heard about you and made him an offer. So he sold you to them instead." Lauren giggled as if her words were an amusing joke rather than an earth-shattering possible death sentence. 

Unable to believe his ears, Kevin fell to his knees, his mouth mouthing words he could not speak. 

With an exasperated glare and a dismissive flick of her hand, she ordered Kevin to stand up straight and hold still. Then, she inspected the former radio host from top to bottom. Her gaze paused at the sight of his obsidian eyes. As she clicked her tongue in disapproval, a flash of sadistic malice crossed her face. "We will have to fix those eyes first. Your new owner won't like them. He prefers a more 'natural' look." 

**"XXXXXXXX"**

The last thing Kevin heard before he passed out was a gut-wrenching scream. 

\------------------------

He was not awake, but he was conscious. 

He wished he wasn't.

He was not given anesthesia. 

His pain did not matter. They did not care.

He could not see anything, but he could feel _everything._

He felt the pain as the clamps held his eyelids open far past the breaking point, tearing the delicate skin around his eyes. 

He felt a bright burning pain move across his eyes and then the familiar full-body burn of Strexcorp Remodeling Solution. 

He didn't faint until they started to pull out his teeth. 

\----------

The Night Vale Community Radio Internship was literally the worst. The death rate is 50% higher than the Night Vale Internship death rate maximum. It is unknown how many interns have died or ceased to exist. The pay, however, was exceptional. 

The main reason the NVCRI was still an available position was that the last time NVCR closed their internship, Cecil forgot about the radio broadcast and spent three hours petting Khoshekh while the whole town listened to the faint sounds of the radio host's cooing. The second reason was that Cecil refused to pay any attention at all to his Facebook account unless he was posting pictures of Carlos (and ranting about how perfect he is) or Khoshekh (and ranting about how cute they are). Therefore, Station Management paid an intern exorbitant amounts of money every month to look after (babysit) Cecil. 

Maureen didn't really like Station Management. They always wanted her to do the strangest things. Like moving all of the furniture in the station exactly 2.237 centimeters towards true north. Or killing all the small limbless creatures that randomly teleported in and out of the station if Cecil spoke with a tone at one hundred decibels. So she was not surprised when the most recent memo that slipped under Station Management's door told her to look after the package that would arrive at her door in two hours. She felt a vague urge to remind Station Management that continuing to do work after she just left work was not a part of her job description but decided not to when she heard an unknown but dread filling ancient tongue being spoken from behind the door. 

"Fine. Whatever. It's not like I had any plans today." She said. Or that she did not say or think or even feel because no one knew what powers Station Management had, or didn't have. 

\---------

Two hours later, Maureen found a box, roughly the same dimensions as a large gym bag but slightly wider, sitting on her front porch. Several "Handle With Care" and "This Way Up" signs were plastered over the box's surface, but they were all facing in different directions. The box looked like it had been dropped several times and possibly burned? After debating whether or not internship credits were worth this much bullshit, she none too carefully dragged it into her house. The box, or rather whatever was inside the box, was much heavier than she expected it to be. 

After trying and failing to place the box on the table, she decided to open it on the ground. The boxcutter she had handy easily cut through the tape holding the box together. Underneath the cardboard box was a slightly smaller metal box. On the metal container's top, there was a small panel with the words "place index and thumb here" engraved above it. 

Sighing in exasperation, Maureen followed the unknown container's instructions. 

"Shit!" She exclaimed as she pulled her hand back. Two small beads of bright red blood formed on the pads of her fingers. Hissing in annoyance, the intern grabbed a tissue paper to stop the blood. 

Behind her, the lid of the metal box slowly slipped up and off to the side. 

After bandaging the minor wounds, she walked back into her living room, intent on throwing whatever was in that box in the incinerator. As she walked over to the unknown container, she heard a faint whimper. She reacted quickly, grabbing the nearby boxcutter and slowly creeping over to the box. 

Inside the box was a man curled in the fetal position. He was not tall or short. He was not fat, but he was dangerously thin. His eyes and nose were like Cecil's. 

As Maureen leaned over the edge of the container, two pale gold eyes flickered open. 

Someone screamed.


	2. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maureen learns more about Kevin and no one dies. 
> 
> *Disclaimer: A panic attack is depicted in this chapter. I am not an expert about mental health or how to comfort someone going through an attack. This depiction may sound off and if it does I am sorry. I get anxiety attacks that manifest differently from the symptoms that are shown in this chapter. If I got something wrong please gently correct me in the comments or just ignore it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one dies.

Maureen usually wasn't a violent person. But she knew who this _monster_ was. She knew the horrible, terrible things he did while wearing Cecil's face. Murder was usually not legal in Night Vale, but the intern thought the Sheriff's Secret Police would probably let this one slide. 

_If you ever see a man with my face but not quite, run far away, Maureen. Far, far away. That man is evil incarnate and, much worse, he is from Desert Bluffs. Aw! Hi, Carlos! It's so-_ Shaking off the flashback, Maureen tightened her grip on the boxcutter in her hand and with an angry blaze in her eyes and a warrior cry that she learned from one of the masked giants on her tongue, she stabbed the monster in the box.  
.  
.  
.  
Or rather she _almost_ stabbed him. 

As she swung down, she watched as the man simply closed his eyes in defeat, went limp, and tilted his head to give her a better angle to reach his jugular. In the split-second, before the improvised dagger tore through the delicate skin beneath her victim's Adam's apple, the intern paused. With a sigh and muttered curse, Maureen removed the knife from near the former radio host's neck.

"What are you doing here?" Her words laced with vitriol and fury.

The man opened his eyes, surprised at his continued existence. Cautiously turning his head toward the intern's voice, he slowly sat up and looked up at her. His new position revealed that he wore nothing but what appeared to be a small speedo and a thick choker around his neck, both pieces of clothing -if they could be called that- were dark black and skin tight. _Were his eyes always that color?_

"Well?!? Care to explain yourself?"

The man startled, his eyes slightly glassy and filled with confusion, as he continued to stare at her. His mouth opened and closed several times before understanding and disappointment flashed across his expressive eyes. 

"Um. S-Station Management purchased me? Lauren said that I will be working at the Night Vale Community Radio station starting Monday? Um." Twisting around in the box, Kevin pulled out a white cardboard box from behind him and, after a moment's hesitation, held it out to Maureen. "Here. This should contain all the information you need."

With a suspicious glare, Maureen stared at the box before shaking her head. "No, I won't open that thing. Who knows what could be inside of it. Instead, you will open it while I watch you. If you try anything, your pretty little head will be bleeding on the ground before you can say a word. No tricks, understand?" 

"Yes, m-ma'am."

The former radio host carefully placed the box in his lap before trying to open the box. It took him four tries to pull the tape off, his hands were shaking so much. After he pulled open the lid, he held up the box once more. Inside was a binder labeled "Care and Instructions" and ten small white remotes with the number 6027 printed on their tops. Maureen transferred the boxcutter to her non-dominant hand and used the other to pull the binder out of the box. 

"Everything you need to know should be inside there."

"Fine. Stand up, turn around and grab your forearms with both hands." When Kevin complied, she wrapped his arms together using the scarf and belt she wore that day. His arms secure, she pulled the unresisting man from the box and over to the only windowless room in her house, her walk-in closet. After pushing him to the ground and grabbing a belt, she bound the oddly compliant man's legs together. She wasn't going to risk him escaping while she read the binder. Turning around, she stepped towards the door. 

"Wait." She paused for a second.

"What?" Her tone was angry and dangerous.

"Could you leave the light on after you leave, please? I don't like the dark."

Not in the mood to humor a psychopath, the intern ignored him and flipped the light switch before walking through the closet door. After shutting and barricading the door behind her, she sat on her bed, facing the closet door, and opened the binder. In the front fold of the binder was a piece of paper, which stated that the new "acquisition" would be her responsibility.

_Care and Instructions for Subject Number 6027_

_Published by Doctor Charles XXXXX  
26 December XXXX_

_Table of Contents  
Basic Information  
Corrections  
Treatments  
Modifications  
Equipment_

"What is this?" 

_Basic Information  
Height: XX  
Weight: XXX  
Hair Color: XXXX  
Eye Color: XXX_

_Acquired with the purchase of the Desert Bluffs Community Radio Station (referred to as DBCRS from here on). The subject was rebellious and very contradictory at the time of purchase. After three months of re-education and training, it was deemed ready for physical corrections. It has three internal corrective devices and a modified physical appearance following Strexcorp guidelines for newly acquired assets. (For more information see "Equipment")._

"This isn't what I think it is, right?" A growing sense of foreboding crept up Maureen's spine.

_Corrections_

_After re-education, the subject was remolded into a prime Strexcorp employee. Unfortunately, the subject would occasionally misbehave. The following are punishments that have proven to work the best to correct his behavior._

_High Voltage Electric Shocks  
-Number 6027 comes equipped with a collar or belt. (For more information see "Equipment").  
Withholding his pain medicine  
-The subject's internal correction device may occasionally cause mild to severe pain Locking him in a dark room or blindfolding him  
-The subject has acquired a strong fear of the dark, it is best not to leave it alone while administering darkness as a punishment. It tends to break down mentally and-_

Cursing profusely, Maureen sprang off the bed as the horror creeping up her spine became full-blown panic. After she wrestled the furniture in front of the door out of the way, she wrenched the closet door open. After a wild search, she finally found the light switch and flipped it up. 

Kevin was curled up on the ground, exactly where she left him. His eyes twisted shut, and tears were trailing down his face and falling onto the hard closet floor. He was shaking and hyperventilating, but he didn't utter a sound. Blood was trickling from his mouth and down his face. When Maureen stepped closer, he flinched, and mindless pleas fell from his mouth. 

"P-please. Stop! I can't... I'll be good. I promise! Please!"

Tears stung her eyes as Maureen realized what she had done. Slowly, to not startle the former radio host, she crept towards the man while cooing meaningless reassurances. 

"Shh. It will be okay. I'm not mad at you. Quiet. Can I touch you? Don't worry. You will be fine. Why don't we walk over to the bed? The bed is much more comfortable." Maureen kept up a constant stream of soothing words as she carefully untied the man's restraints before she lightly maneuvered Kevin out of the closet, around the furniture and onto the bed. After sitting him down, she coached him through a set of breathing exercises, and after a few minutes -and a couple of false starts- he was breathing normally, and the shaking had stopped. After receiving the go head to rub his back, she noticed that his skin was burning up. A quick temperature check with her hand confirmed his high temperature. _I could have sworn he was bleeding. Where did it go?_

"You are sick. Why didn't you tell me?"

Kevin hesitated, obviously surprised at the intern's change in attitude, before answering. After an encouraging nod from Maureen, he responded. "I didn't want to upset you. You were already so angry..."

With another muttered curse, the intern stood up abruptly. "I will check your temperature, and we will see what medicine I should give you."

She started to walk out of the room, but then she paused in the doorway. "I messed up, Kevin. I shouldn't have done that to you even if I didn't know how you would react. I ignored you out of petty spite. I'm sorry for what it's worth."

\----------

Within three hours, Kevin's temperature rose to 102 degrees Fahrenheit. The medicine that Maureen found appeared to do nothing to ease his pain or lower his temperature. All she could do was feed him soup and help the former radio host walk to the restroom, all the while feeling useless. 

While Kevin was sick, Maureen learned some things that she wished she could unlearn. For example, those little white remotes activate the torture device that sat around Kevin's neck. (She learned this the hard way when she accidentally dropped one and then heard unholy screaming coming from the next room. It took longer than either of them would have liked for Maureen to figure out how to turn it off. Kevin wouldn't let her touch him for two hours.) 

Also, apparently, Kevin's new appearance was a gift from Strexcorp to Kevin's new owner. ("He must really like the natural look. They used so many modifications." Kevin nonchalantly mused as he inspected his new features in the mirror. Gone were his obsidian eyes and permanently scarred grin, in their place were two pale gold orbs, and unmarked cheeks.)

As her anger and disgust at Strexcorp grew even more (which she didn't think was possible), her hatred and distrust of the man who shared her boss's face decreased until it disappeared altogether. It was hard to hate a man who mumbled incoherently about how pretty her hair was and how comfortable pillows were. ("I should make a house made entirely out of pillows and cotton candy! Why 're you laughing? Reeny! Why are you laughing!?") It was even harder to hate a man who flinched every time she moved too suddenly. 

Two and a half days later (thank goodness for the weekend), Maureen woke up to the smell of bacon. Still half asleep, she shuffled into the kitchen and walked straight to the coffee machine, and was pleasantly surprised that it was already running. After filling a cup with the life-giving beverage, she drank all of it in five seconds flat before refilling her mug. Slightly more awake, she sat down at the breakfast table and watched Kevin bounce around the kitchen, humming a children's song.

"Thank you for cooking breakfast, but why are you up, Kevin? You should still be in bed recuperating."

Kevin turned around with a bright Strexcorp smile and fear in his eyes. "What do you mean, silly? Today is Monday, and today I start my new job! I can't be late for that! That would be very bad and unproductive. Good employees are always thirty minutes early to work and three hours late to sign out!" 

Maureen could see that Kevin was trying not to panic from his overly positive language and tightly clasped hands. Maureen walked over to Kevin, fast enough to get to him before he spiraled, but slow enough to not startle him. "You know no one will punish you if you don't follow Strexcorp's rules, right? It's different here in Night Vale."

"I know, but I am nervous about how Cecil will react to my presence at the station. He still hates me and is probably still angry that I took up so much of Carlos's time in the Desert Otherworld."

"I will be there. I can distract him, with Khosheck, or a Facebook post from Carlos if he gets angry. Take a deep breathe and let it out slowly for me, please."

After quietly breathing in and out for a minute, Kevin nodded his head in agreement. "You're right. I will be okay. I just need to be positive."

\---------

Everything was not okay. Even though Maureen purposefully left the remotes at home, a large box of them sat on a table right in front of the entrance to the Night Vale Radio Station. Plastered to the box was a note that had a message scrawled across it in bold 24 point letters. "Please take a remote. Press the button on the remote if you feel threatened or afraid. Always have a remote with you. -Station Management"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Kevin (and Maureen).


	3. Cecil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil needs some sleep in this chapter. 
> 
> Again, no one dies.
> 
> *Please ignore the XXXXs they do not exist and are definitely not there because the author is lazy.

Cecil was unhappy. Very unhappy, like Carlos hadn't come home for three days because of science unhappy with a side of murderous rage. Conflicting emotions of anger and fear continuously clashed in an unseen battle within his heart. His head hurt, his heart raced, and his muscles tensed as if ready for a fight. 

This was Kevin's fault. _Kevin_ , that monster that shared his face. He hated Kevin. 

\----------

Earlier that morning, Cecil woke up feeling horrible. Carlos had left their bed at one in the morning for science ("Cecil let go! I just got an alert that the XXXXX, you know the thing that looks for XXXXXX, has detected several off the charts readings at XXX XXXX! I have to go! Bye! Love you!") and half of his limbs were still asleep when he woke up. It was Monday (which was horrible in and of itself) and he forgot to wash his favorite Monday shirt (a neon purple tunic, with a small black cat that changed positions throughout the day printed on the shoulder, or front, or back). His hair refused to submit to the power of pomade and extra strength bloodstone magic. He tripped on one of Carlos's numerous scientific devices. His car was running low on gas. The sun was too bright, and the weather was too cold. 

Overall, Cecil was just having a horrible day. The memo that was handed to him by XXXX from advertising just made his mood worse.

_A new radio host will be joining the NVCR family from Strexcorp. He will broadcast when Cecil is off the air starting today._

_Please pick up a remote from one of the large boxes filled with remotes with the number 6027 on them. Read the instructions on the boxes carefully._

_Do not kill each other. It is illegal and a pain to fill out paperwork for._

—————

Inhuman screeching that sounded vaguely like "ANOTHER RADIO HOST!" echoed through the Night Vale Community Radio Station as employees continued about their day. 

\----------

After twenty minutes of focused breathing and excessive doting on Khosheck, Cecil walked out of the men's bathroom with a thunderous expression on his face. He stalked down the hall to Station Management's door and started to yell at the door demanding an explanation.  
.  
.  
.  
He was ignored. 

"Are you done yet?" 

"What!?" Cecil spat as he spun around only to be met with an unimpressed and exhausted intern. With crossed arms, a raised eyebrow, and a mocking smirk on her lips, Maureen stared, unamused, at Cecil. 

"I said, are you done yet? You have been yelling at that door for _thirty minutes_. You do know the broadcast starts in fifteen minutes, right? I have been working diligently, with some unneeded but not unwanted help, for the past hour. Where have you been? Yelling at a silent door? I understand that you are upset with this change, but we still have a job to do. Now, I will ask again, are you done yet?" Throughout the entire lecture, the intern continued to glare at her boss with an unflinching gaze. _Does she even blink?_

With slumped shoulders and a petulant tone, Cecil mumbled something that sounded like "Fine. I was done anyway. You're an intern, you shouldn't tell me what to do."

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you." 

"Nothing. Let's go."

As they walked to the broadcasting booth, Cecil noticed there were boxes full of white remotes everywhere in the station. _Now that I think about it, there was even a box in the men's bathroom._ Interest piqued, the radio host walked over to one of the containers and picked up a little white remote with the number 6027 printed on the top. 

_“Press the button on the remote if you feel threatened or afraid.”_

"Cecil? You aren't going to use that, right? I mean, it could hurt someone?" A decidedly nervous lilt seeped into the formerly miffed intern's tone.

"Don't worry, Maureen. I highly doubt I would ever use it unless a horrible monster invaded our town and radio station. Even then, I would try to reason with them first." With a casual flick of his wrist, Cecil waved away Maureen's concerns as he put the remote into his pocket.

\----------

The broadcast went well. While Cecil was reading the notice from Station Management about the new radio host, he slowly tore it into pieces. Maureen understood that Cecil needed an outlet for his anger. She didn't say anything. When the Voice continued his diatribe about the "horrible and unnecessary" choice his boss(es) made, the intern merely tapped on the glass and handed him a new news story. After Cecil continued to rant during the weather forecast, Maureen did not steal his coffee hammer, in a fit of petty rage. Nope, this did not happen. 

By the end of the show, Cecil was relatively calm. (Maureen was the opposite happy, but the thought of Cecil's face the next he tried to make coffee satiated her fury, for now.)

.  
.  
.

Then, Kevin strolled into the broadcasting room with a wide smile. He was holding Khosheck.

"Hi, Cecil! I just found this cat in the men's restroom. Isn't he just the cutest!” The new radio host opened his mouth to say more, but his words were abruptly stopped as his lungs ran out of air.

“Cecil! Stop choking Kevin!”

\----------

Cecil was unhappy. Very unhappy, like Carlos hadn't come home for three days because of science unhappy with a side of murderous rage. Conflicting emotions of anger and fear continuously clashed in an unseen battle within his heart. His head hurt, his heart raced, and his muscles tensed, as if ready for a fight. 

This was Kevin's fault. _Kevin_ , that monster that shared his face. He hated Kevin. He wanted to kill Kevin. He would have killed Kevin, but Maureen and Carlos said no.  
("Why~?" The Night Vale Voice whined.  
"No, Cecil. Murder is illegal."  
"But-"  
"No!"  
"Fiiiine." )

\----------

Carlos and Maureen didn't understand. Kevin was evil. Cecil still vividly remembers the dark red walls, teeth, and human body parts that were strewn across the broadcasting room after the company picnic. He still remembers finding Shawn P's wedding ring covered in blood. He remembers the jolt of fear and anxiety that raced through him when he learned that Kevin lived in the Desert Otherworld, near _Carlos_.

_Just because his eyes aren't obsidian and he doesn't wear a Strexcorp smile, doesn't mean that he has changed._

Carlos and Maureen didn't understand, but that was okay. Cecil would protect them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No One Dies!


	4. Dread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was getting harder and harder for Cecil to hate Kevin with the same burning contempt that he had at the beginning.

Two weeks after Kevin "moved" to Night Vale, Cecil decided he didn't hate Kevin anymore. He just really disliked him, like Steve. 

For thirteen days, six hours, six seconds, and six milliseconds, the original Voice of Night Vale did everything in his power to avoid Kevin. He hid in the men's bathroom as Kevin was walking by five times. He dropped underneath his desk when the new Voice came over to talk to Maureen three times. He blatantly just turned and walked the other way when he saw his "double" from across the street countless times. Cecil also pushed Carlos into a wall to kiss him like a drowning man when Kevin was near twenty times. (The last strategy was Cecil's favorite. The new radio host always left when he saw them, and Cecil got kisses! Carlos knew about this ulterior motive but pretended not to because of... science.)

After two weeks of this nonsense, Maureen told Cecil to come in early Monday to watch one of Kevin's broadcasts.

("You are going to watch Kevin's broadcasts starting this Monday."

"But-"

"..."

"Fine.")

That Monday, Cecil walked into the station with bleary eyes and a coffee mug full of milk. (He still couldn't find his coffee hammer.) On autopilot, Cecil walked over to the broadcasting booth. When he saw Kevin setting up in front of the mic, he promptly tried to turn around, but two petite hands with an iron grip pushed the stunned radio host into the chair in front of the booth. 

"I really don't want to watch this, Maureen." 

"Well, too bad. You still owe me a favor for proofreading all your love letters to Carlos. Which is still not one of my job descriptions." The intern held out the latest batch of letters she had to proofread as evidence. "You should give him another chance, Cecil. He isn't the monster you think he is."

\-----------

Cecil watched as Kevin meticulously placed his coffee mug, a small stack of paper, five black ink pens, five multicolored ink pens, and his phone on the table before he finally sat down. Each item was placed within arms reach of the mic. As the former Desert Bluffs radio host puttered around the booth, he had a small smile on his lips and a soft bounce in his step. He looked genuinely happy. Cecil felt... odd. Grabbing one of the many objects in his thousand pocket jacket, the original Voice of Night Vale tried to soothe his strained nerves by spinning the small white rectangle he found between his fingers.

After three minutes, Kevin eventually spotted Cecil sitting behind the glass. A bright smile blossomed on the new radio host's face as he stepped out of the booth. 

"Good morning, Cecil! What are you doing here?" Kevin beamed at Cecil, but his smile wobbled when he saw Cecil's sullen face, and the "toy" he was fiddling with. With a slightly more Strexcorp-like smile, the new radio host continued his enthusiastic greeting. "Not that I am not happy you are here. The more, the merrier I always say!"

Cecil refused to look directly at his "double's" face, but he replied demi-cordially, none the less. "Morning. Maureen believes it would be beneficial for me to watch a few of your broadcasts."

"Really! That's odd!" The new Voice tilted his head in confusion. 

"Hmmm." 

The awkward silence was interrupted when Maureen yelled at Kevin to get ready for the broadcast. With twin sighs of relief, the "doubles" went back to their places. 

Before Kevin got comfy in the broadcasting chair, he gave Cecil a little abashed wave and a quick smile. When the new Voice of Night Vale heard the intro music cut out, he sat up straight, clasped his hands, and brightly greeted his new home.

"Good morning Night Vale! I hope your day has been great so far!"

\----------

It was harder and harder for Cecil to hate Kevin with the same burning contempt that he had at the beginning. 

He had to admit that the man was good at their job. The new radio host's soft, kind voice and his knack for putting a positive spin on even the most menacing City Council memos was refreshing. The genuine smile he flashed at everyone he saw, was nice. The confused expression he made every time he left one of his many pens in his hair was... endearing. 

Some of Kevin's quirks confused Cecil. Like his refusal to leave the broadcasting chair during the normal temporal disturbance that happened every time a Voice hosted a show. Like Kevin's refusal to acknowledge the limp that appeared in the new radio host's gait whenever he tried to run. Like the small aborted, almost scared, movement, he made the one, and only, time Maureen knocked on the window.

Cecil was confused about Kevin. He didn't _hate_ him quite as much as he used to. It was weird.

\---------

As Cecil drove home after his broadcast on Friday, he felt a sharp gaze burning in his back. When he turned around, there was no one there, not even a member of the Sheriff's Secret Police.

\---------

When Cecil got home, he received a text from Carlos.

_Carlos: I'm staying at the lab tonight. Good night._

_Cecil: Good night! Love you!_

_Carlos: <3 _

As Cecil slipped under the bedsheets, he couldn't shake the horrible feeling in his stomach that something terrible had happened. With one more look at Carlos's last text, the radio host fell into a restless sleep. 

\---------

When Cecil woke up the next day, Carlos still wasn't home.

\--------

As he stepped into the NVCR station later that day, Cecil felt an enormous sense of dread settle on to his shoulders. Everything appeared to be normal. The usual sounds of Station Management shrieking and terrified employees whispering echoed through station. The empty radio booths still broadcasted mysterious noises and messages that were heard by no one but the intended recipient. Maureen was in the break room, making coffee without a coffee hammer.

The feeling of dread continued. 

\---------

Kevin was standing in a shallow pool of blood. 

\----------

Kevin was standing in a shallow pool of blood. His hands and wrists were covered in a dark red liquid, the excess slowly dropped on to the black and white checkered floor. His back was to Cecil. At the _monster's_ feet was a limp body. The body's normally perfect hair and normally pristine white lab coat were soaked in scarlet. The blood stopped in an almost perfect line right where the bottom of a door used to be. 

Time stopped, crystalizing, solid but breakable, in that one moment. 

Cecil couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't blink. Ice froze his veins, and Fire burned his heart. His teeth were clenched, the scream trapped in his throat echoed in his mind. His hand grasped the door handle with a grip he could not open.

Cecil's briefcase fell to the floor, forgotten, and a sharp clatter broke the silence that encased the room.

"Cecil!" Kevin cried as he spun around, a smile filled his face. He looked so inexplicably happy to see Cecil, but his expression quickly shifted when he saw the look on his "double's" face. "Wait! Cecil, this isn't what it looks like!"

_Push the button if you feel threatened or afraid._

Cecil's heartbeat thundered in his ears, and his hands shook as he fumbled through his pockets for the small white rectangle he picked up three weeks ago. 

_Push the button if you feel threatened._

Kevin's eye's widened, and his hands reached out to stop the inevitable. The door slammed in his face. Cecil finally pulled out a small white remote with the number 6027 emblazoned on it. The Voice of Night Vale's hands shook as he looked back and forth between the remote and the monster he could still see through the small glass window on the right side of the door.

_Push the button._

Cecil watched as Kevin banged on the door. His hands stopped shaking.

_Push-_

He pushed to button.

Cecil couldn't hear the unbearable scream of pain that bounced off the Night Vale Community Radio Station walls over the static roar in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a splitting headache when I edited this so tell me if anything is wonky.
> 
> Also, thank you for the comments (and kudos but mostly comments). They make my day.


	5. Shipping and Packaging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I am evil, the cliffhanger from the previous chapter is not answered in this chapter.

One month ago:

As a gift to Station Management, Strexcorp remodeled, and re-educated Number 6027 to fit their preferences, free of charge.

Station Management preferred to have employees with normally-colored irides, white sclera, and unscarred faces. The Smiling God thought Station Management's tastes were odd but decided to oblige them. It didn't take much time or money to refurbish Number 6027's appearance. It's accelerated healing factor was very handy like that. 

Re-education took a bit longer. Number 6027 worked very well most of the time. Every once in a while, it would glitch and need a little bit of maintenance. However, these occasional glitches had little impact on its productivity overall. (In fact, productivity increased for a short time after each tuning session. Charles, the Scientist, suggested a higher frequency of maintenance sessions to increase productivity but was denied.) The problem was that Number 6027 was programmed to behave in line with Strexcorp protocols, which were very different from NVCR protocols. 

\----------

Charles appreciated Strexcorp's foresight to install drains in the floors of re-education rooms. It made clean up so much easier. The chains holding up Number 6027 were, of course, standard issue, but much still appreciated. Charles didn't like it when his favorite test subject moved during their sessions.

During the re-education session, the scientist got a little carried away and nicked an artery, shocking Carles from his daze. As scarlet lifeblood flowed down his favorite test subject's back, the scientist watched in reverent awe, heedless of the growing pool of blood at his feet. Charles loved blood. He loved the bright crimson that bloomed from the shallow smile-shaped incisions in Number 6027's arms. He cherished the ruby red that oozed from the deep laceration in his favorite test subject's back. The scientist adored the carmine streaks that gushed from around the stiletto knife embedded in Number 6027's heart. 

Strexcorp didn't mind this trait of Charles. They even encouraged it at times. He was their best civilian re-educator, so they granted his request to be in charge of Number 6027 without fuss. (They were aware of the things Charles did behind closed doors. They didn't care. It didn't affect productivity.) Strexcorp was especially pleased when the scientist managed to change Number 6027's hemophobia to bloodlust. It took six months. 

Charles watched with rapt attention as the marks he had lovingly cared on Number 6027's skin slowly closed. Ten minutes later, the only evidence of the test subject's re-education was the knife still buried in its chest. Then, with a wicked Cheshire smile, the scientist pulled the weapon from its temporary sheathing. A choked shriek emitted from the silent Number 6027, and Charles smile stretched impossibly wider. He snapped his fingers. The chains suddenly released and dropped their load. The test subject fell into a graceless heap on a shallow puddle of slowly draining blood. A soft whimper escaped from its lips.

The scientist with perfect hair, teeth like a Steinway, and a labcoat dyed an exact shade of lilac laughed and walked out the door. 

He turned off the lights on his way out.

\----------

When they packaged him, they didn't bother to include any padding. All he had was a white box for a pillow, a reading light, and a new handbook. Kevin knew the box contained instructions for his new owner or handle (and ten white remotes that the radio host didn't want to think about). Just like he knew the reading light and handbook were for him. The metal box was not long enough for him to stretch out his legs, or tall enough to sit up in, but it was wide enough for Kevin to read the new handbook. So with his head on the white box and his required reading in front of him, NVCR's new asset read over his new rules.

_Night Vale Community Radio- Asset Number 6027_

_Table of Contents  
-Chain of Command  
-Rules  
-Punishments  
-Maintenance Schedule_

_Chain of Command:  
The chain of command refers to the individuals who may use the humanoid Strexpet code number 6027 and order of priority for obedience. The chain of command for Kevin (Number 6027) at the Night Vale Community Radio Station (referred to as NVCRS from now on) is as follows:_

_-Station Management  
-Cecil Gershwin Palmer  
-NVCRS Employees  
-NVCRS Interns_

_The punishments detailed on page XXX._

_Rules:  
Obey all members of the Chain of Command.  
Expressions are to be as realistic as possible.   
Deviation from the Night Vale community moral code is not accepted.   
Murder is illegal.  
Do not acknowledge angels.  
Only acknowledge members of the Sheriff's Secret Police if they signal to you first.  
Obey Cecil Palmer.  
Obey your handler.  
Blood is not permitted.  
Sexual intercourse is not allowed.   
A member of the Chain of Command can overwrite any rule they please._

_Punishments:_

Kevin slammed the handbook closed. He knew what the punishments were. 

Exhausted, Kevin quietly hummed a children's song he no longer knew the words to as he tried to fall asleep.

\---------

* _SLAM_ *

Kevin was jolted awake by the sound and feel of his box hitting the ground, presumably at his new owner or handler's house. He couldn't hear anything. A minute later, the box was slowly dragged across a rough surface and then over a bump. The former radio host could feel the box tilt back and forth as the person outside tried to lift it. The person failed and appeared to give up. 

A few minutes later, the lid of Kevin's container slipped off, and he could hear the sounds of a lovely soprano voice cursing up a storm. Nervous and terrified that he had upset his new handler, the Voice curled into an even tighter ball. (The unfamiliar soprano had to be his handler. Ancient beings like Station Management didn't curse in English.)

Kevin heard rustling in another room. A door clicked shut, then a pair of footsteps entered the room. Then there was silence. In his experience, silence was never a good thing. If his handler was quiet, they were planning something painful. Charles was always horribly silent before he punished the Voice. 

Anxiety and fear churned in the former radio host's stomach. Despite his best efforts, a pained whimper slipped through Kevin's lips. A quiet sound and the soft padding of feet alerted Kevin to his new handler's approach. The former radio host squeezed his eyes tightly closed and held his breath. 

Ten seconds later, Kevin cautiously opened his eyes. He watched as his new handler's face twisted with rage (and fear?). As her lips drew back into a terrifying snarl, a brutal yell tore from her throat. For a moment, he didn't understand. Then, he saw the knife she held in her hand. With a relieved sigh, the defeated radio host closed his eyes and tilted his head to give his handler a better angle. 

She didn't kill him. Instead of the welcome release of death, Kevin heard his new handler mutter a curse. 

"What are you doing here?" Her words laced with vitriol and fury.

Surprised at his continued existence, the Voice slowly sat up. As he looked up at his handler, he suppressed the urge to wince at the pain emitting his neck. His position in the metal box put undue pressure on his new collar. He could already feel a knot forming. (Strexcorp preferred a belt-type corrective device.) 

"Well?!? Care to explain yourself?" His new handler was angry and confused, but Kevin didn't know why. Fear coursed through his veins as the former radio host tried to figure out an acceptable explanation. 

"Um. S-Station Management purchased me? Lauren said that I will be working at the Night Vale Community Radio station starting Monday? Um." Voice stuttering and hands shaking, Kevin pulled out the white box behind him. "Here. This should contain all the information you need."

With a suspicious glare, the handler stared at the box before shaking her head. "No, I won't open that thing. Who knows what could be inside of it. Instead, you will open it while I watch you. If you try anything, your pretty little head will be bleeding on the ground before you can say a word. No tricks, understand?" 

"Yes, m-ma'am."

The former radio host placed the box in his lap before attempting to open the box. It took several tries, but the white box finally opened. Suspicion still evident on her face, the handler picked up the binder. _Why didn't she grab a remote? They usually love them._

"Everything you need to know should be inside there."

"Fine. Stand up, turn around and grab your forearms with both hands." Without another word, she marched him over to a bedroom closet. After restraining his legs, she walked out the door. 

Despite his meek protests, the handler turned off the light on her way out. 

\-----------

It was dark. 

The only light in the small closet seeped from beneath the door. 

Kevin felt paralyzed as memories of pain and darkness rushed through his mind. He tried to hold onto the sight of the soft yellow light underneath the door. The Voice labored to breathe. He tried to fight the all-consuming dark.

He fell into the abyss.

\----------

An unknown amount of time later, Kevin woke to the sound of soft murmuring. 

\----------

His handler's name was Maureen, and she was wonderful! Maureen was kind. She let him down on a bed even though it wasn't his allotted rest time. Maureen asked before touching him. She _apologized_!

\----------

Kevin was sick. He hated being ill because it was disgusting and unproductive. Maureen's presence and soothing words helped. 

\----------

Halfway through his second day in Night Vale, Kevin realized that Maureen didn't know she was his handler. 

They were watching an adorable movie about puppies that didn't kill people when the extra strength acetaminophen finally kicked in. Then, in his first moment of lucidness in thirty hours, Kevin realized Maureen was oddly considerate for a handler. As an employee of his new owner, she had no reason to be so gentle with him. 

Unbidden, a question slipped from the Voice's lips. "Did you finish reading the binder?" 

The moment the words left his mouth, Kevin regretted it. 

"No! That binder is horrible. I would have burned it yesterday, but I forgot." The intern's nose scrunched in disdain. 

"But you need to know which punishments are best to use on me if I break one of the rules. Not that I would ever break the rules on purpose, but sometimes I forget! Which isn't an excuse, but if you are going to punish me, you need to know the most efficient ways to do so." As the former radio host rambled anxiously, his fingernails cut shallow grooves into his thighs. 

With a confused and concerned smile, Maureen gently held Kevin's wrists.

"Why would I do that?"

"You're my handler. You opened the box."

"Kevin? I'm not a handler." Maureen carefully intertwined their hands together and squeezed. "Even if I was, I would never punish you."

"Oh."

Kevin believed her.  
\----------

On Kevin's first day of work, he woke up at 4 o'clock. The former radio host slipped off of Maureen's guest bed and padded over to the kitchen. In an abandoned corner of the kitchen, sat the metal box that the radio-host-to-be stepped out of just two days ago. Kevin pulled out a small book. With a deep stabilizing breath, the Voice sat down to read. _Night Vale Community Radio- Asset Number 6027_

\----------

Under the moonlight sat a man whose favorite color was a soft butter yellow. He was reading a small book filled with words that would dictate his new life. One thought ran through his head.

_I hope Night Vale will be as kind as Maureen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I am nice, the next chapter does answer the cliffhanger.
> 
> And I posted it right after this one.


	6. Danger Danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would recommend reading Maintenance, the first work in this series, first to understand just how horrible Charles is in this universe but you don’t really have to.

During the most unbearably quiet moments in the Desert Otherworld, the Silent Voice would curl up on a hard stone rock on top of a dune in an abandoned corner of the town-that-once-was and turn on a small portable radio. Every time, by Fate's kind accident or cruel design, the radio played a singular station. Every time, a voice like smoked honey would reverberate through the air and bring a smile to his face. 

Kevin liked Cecil. He was so genuinely pleasant. The radio host's voice was like a soft fluffy blanket, warm and reassuring. 

The first time Kevin truly listened to one of Cecil's broadcasts, the former radio host was looking for news about Carlos. 

\----------

Carlos left. Sweet, honest, kind Carlos, the man who shared Charles's face but none of his nature, was gone, and all that was left was an empty lab. 

Eyes blurred and hands shaking, Kevin tried to turn on an old portable radio and prayed to the Smiling God he did not love. 

"Please. Please, please. Oh God, please, work."

By Fate's kind accident or cruel design, the moment when the radio stuttered on was the same moment when Cecil saw Carlos in the Opera House. As he listened to their reunion, a broken sob burst from Kevin's chest. Warring emotions swirled through the former radio host's chest until he could no longer tell if he was crying in despair or laughing in relief. 

Carlos, sweet kind Carlos was safe, but he left Kevin behind. 

\----------

Since that moment, when Kevin could no longer bear the horrible sea of grief he was drowning in, he would turn on the radio, hoping desperately for news about his dear friend. 

\----------

Kevin couldn't remember when he stopped listening to the broadcasts solely to hear about Carlos. He couldn't tell you when he started to genuinely enjoy just listening to Cecil's voice. 

\----------

Kevin liked Cecil and his pleasant voice, but he knew Cecil hated him. He knew the Night Vale radio host despised Kevin's obsidian eyes and monstrous smile. Kevin knew Cecil hated everything about him. 

Yet, he had desperately hoped that Cecil would like him more with his new appearance. The radio-host-to-be had foolishly hoped that perhaps the man who shared his face would give him a chance to prove himself. 

The horrible rage that twisted Cecil's face, when he saw Kevin, crushed the new radio host's childish dreams. 

\----------

It hurt to see Cecil avoiding him, but it didn't hurt as much Carlos's avoidance. 

\----------

When Kevin saw Cecil staring at him from behind the broadcasting room window, he almost thought it was an illusion. Their conversation was awkward but not combative, which, in Kevin's opinion, was a good step in the right direction. 

After three broadcasts, Kevin noticed that Cecil no longer stared at him in burning hatred. Instead, the original radio host's gaze had melted into mild displeasure. 

\----------

A month after Kevin "moved" to Night Vale, he walked into the Night Vale Community Radio Station with a bounce in his step and catchy song on his lips. After his standard peppy greeting to Station Managements door, the new radio host skipped into the broadcasting room. 

Sitting in the broadcasting chair was a man with chocolate brown hair, teeth like a Steinway, a pristine white lab coat, and obsidian eyes. 

The man who shared Carlos's face smiled a grotesque and cruel grin. 

**"XXXXXX"**

Kevin's legs unwillingly collapsed from underneath him.

"Hello, Kevin. I missed you so much."

\----------

Kevin could hardly think anymore. The nauseating combination of pain, drugs, and blood lose clouded his mind. 

Charles had pushed Kevin into the broadcasting chair right after he pressed a whole syringe of unknown liquid into the radio host's neck. The lethal cocktail took seconds to kick in. 

After Charles was certain his favorite test subject could not fight back, he took out his favorite knife, a double-sided dagger with a serrated edge, and a devastatingly sharp edge. The scientist cut two deep lines in Kevin's triceps. Then, he leaned down to whisper in Kevin's ear.

"Oh, I missed you so much, my dear Number 6027. I am going to do so many fun things to you."

An involuntary shudder shook Kevin's frame. Then, with a strength he didn't know he possessed, the Voice surged out of the chair and wrapped his arms around Charles's neck. 

A terrible pain bloomed from Kevin's abdomen as the scientist tore through his skin with the serrated blade of the knife.

It took several minutes for Charles's body to go limp from lack of air. 

As Kevin stood panting over his tormentor, his wounds slowly sealed and left only faint scars and ruby red blood in their wake.

_*clatter*_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *No one dies and everyone is eventually happy.*


	7. Scientifically Speaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not in chronological order. I blame my Carlos muse. He refused to speak to me for days and then when he finally did it was out of order.

Scientifically speaking, Carlos was okay.  
Physically speaking, Carlos was in danger. 

\---------

"Cecil, let go! I just got an alert from the XXXXX! You know, the thing that looks for XXXXXX, has detected several, off-the-charts readings at XXX XXXX! I have to go! Bye! Love you!" Carlos rushed down the hallway, slipped on his shoes, and then ran out the door. Carlos didn't have to put on a lab coat before he left their house. He always wore a lab coat. (The current lab coat was Carlos's going-to-bed lab coat, but no one could tell because it was the same pristine white as every other lab coat.)

\----------

On a Monday the same Monday as Kevin's first day of work at NVCR, Carlos chose to leave Cecil lying on their bed. He decided that science was more important than his husband.

Looking back on that Monday, Carlos was not sure if he chose correctly. 

\----------

Carlos's lab in Night Vale was simple. It had a metal table, a wood table, a blackboard, an XXXXXX, a whiteboard, seven beakers, a small hadron collider, ten flasks, a danger-meter, and several not-quite-writing-utensils. You know, the bare necessities required to do science. 

\----------

When Carlos arrived at his lab, the night was dark as an abyss and silent as the Desert Otherworld. The lights were off inside. One of the other scientists should have gotten there before him if the XXXXXX went off. Nils lived right next door to the lab, after all, but her lights were off as well. 

Carlos stepped out of his hybrid coupe and pulled out his phone. He dialed Nils's number and waited as the dial tone resounded through the soundless darkness. As he waited, the scientist took a deep breath and stared back down the road. There was a light in the distance. Carlos could not tell where the small pinprick of luminescence was coming from or what color it was. The light filled Carlos with a warm indescribable feeling, like a hug or a beaming smile. He didn't know why. 

***Smash***

Carlos blacked out.

\----------

When he woke up on the floor of his lab, as scientists often do, Carlos didn't know why his head was throbbing or how he got a mosquito bite on the back of his right hand. Carlos felt weak and hollow as if something essential to his very existence was taken from him. 

The XXXXXX flashed and emitted an awful screeching noise. The incredible readings that ran across its screen drew the scientist in. A great thunder of feet echoed through the lab, and the other scientists in his team ran into the room. Then, without noticing Carlos's pale face, they proceeded to scream and scribble down notes.

Carlos forgot about the empty feeling he had.

\----------

Charles arrived in Dessert Bluffs at the exact same time Carlos arrived in Night Vale. He began his speech at the precise moment Carlos started his own.

Charles told Desert Bluffs that they are by far the most horribly unproductive community in the U.S., and he had come to fix and improve everyone in town. His face stretched into a grotesque Cheshire smile, everything about him was frightening, and Kevin felt ill.

\---------

"I can't believe Station Management hired him! He's a monster!" Carlos could hear the slight rustling of Cecil's gesticulations and the soft thumping of feet in the background. 

"He isn't a monster, Cecil." Carlos couldn't see Cecil's face, but he could imagine the adorable way his lips would purse in exasperated anger. "Also, I already heard this rant during your broadcast. Scientifically speaking, repetition is a good thing. But, Cecil darling, your voice is going hoarse. Maybe take a break for a little while? Even a radio host needs to rest their voice occasionally."

"But, but."

"Cecil."

"Fine."

"Thank you."

For the rest of the phone call, the Voice of Night Vale obediently listened to his beloved scientist ramble about ions and the time-space continuum, a soft smile replacing his pout.

\----------

Carlos wasn't sure how to feel about Kevin moving to Night Vale. On the one hand, he was glad his friend left that horrible Desert Otherworld. On the other hand, the scientist didn't want Kevin in Night Vale specifically.

Carlos didn't dislike Kevin. On the contrary, he thought of Kevin as a dear friend. The former radio host was a kind and thoughtful companion in the Desert Otherworld. Unfortunately, Kevin had a crush on Carlos. The sunny smiles, bright laughs, and not-quite-hidden glances would have been adorable if they weren't also very disturbing. It was almost too easy for the scientist to imagine a world where he met Kevin first and fell in love with him instead of Cecil.

Carlos had a wonderful, caring husband. He had neglected Cecil enough in the name of science. He wasn’t going to endanger their relationship for something that could have been but will never be.

\----------

The Desert Otherworld was horrible in a way Carlos would never be able to explain to Cecil. It was a bright, soulless void full of sand and light that fills you with a bone-deep fear. 

The nomadic armies of masked warriors were kind, but it was hard to converse with people who left for battle every fifteen minutes. They never stayed in one place long enough to teach Carlos more than the most basic signs in their language. 

The traumatized Desert Bluffians would only mindlessly repeat Strexcorp slogans whenever Carlos tried to speak to them. 

Kevin was different. 

Kevin was Carlos's one and only true friend in that Desert Otherworld. For one year (ten years), Kevin accompanied the scientist in his search for the Night Vale door. They saved each other's lives more times than they could count. Kevin was Carlos's shoulder to lean on for over a decade. 

The scientist gradually grew fond of Kevin. But Carlos loved Cecil, and Kevin loved Carlos. 

Kevin didn't know Carlos knew about his love. The former radio host tried to be as subtle as possible, and it would have worked if Carlos was in love with anyone else but Cecil. 

Carlos knew Kevin loved him. The scientist also knew he could never tell Kevin that he was aware of the former radio host's love.

This knowledge made writing that letter a thousand times harder but also a thousand times more necessary. 

It _hurt_ to write that letter and give it to Kevin, but Carlos knew the pain would be an agony a thousand times worse for Kevin. 

\----------

Thirty minutes after the inaugural broadcast of the Desert Otherworld community radio station, a man with perfect hair and teeth like a military graveyard stepped out of a door and into his house. As soon as the door closed behind him, the man fell to his knees and cried. 

\----------

_Carlos: I'm staying at the lab tonight. Good night._

_Cecil: Good night! Love you!_

_Carlos: <3 _

"Is that good enough?" Carlos's hands shook as he turned the screen towards his kidnapper. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the deceptively small handgun pointed his heart. 

"Hmm. Quite." Charles took the phone from his captive's grip and slipped it into his lab coat. "Do you know why I am here?"

"No. Why are you here?"

"I want my favorite test subject back, so I came to pick it up."

"Why do you need me to do that?"

" I don't need you. I just need your blood."

Without waiting for Carlos to answer, Charles injected a tranquilizer into the back of Carlos's neck. After the sedative kicked in, the Strexcorp scientist handcuffed the unconscious man's hands and legs and tied a gag around his mouth. 

With a Strex-approved smile and a bright whistle, Charles climbed up the basement stairs, leaving only a dim light bulb on in the darkness behind him.

\----------

In the emergency wing of the Night Vale General Hospital, Cecil sat frozen in the uncomfortable hospital chair next to his husband's horribly still body. The radio host desperately clutched Carlos's right hand as tears trailed silently down his face. 

The doctors said that there appeared to be no wounds on Carlos's body other than the dark bruise that circled the scientist's throat. Overall, Carlos's body was in perfect condition. The only things missing were the scientist's breath and beating heart.

Carlos was dead, and Cecil's soul was breaking into pieces.  
\----------

The three members of the Sheriff's Secret Police stormed the NVCR Station shortly after Cecil pressed the button on a remote marked 6027. (The Sheriff's Secret Police bugged the remotes. They aren't sure how but they did.) They immediately pulled Maureen up from where she was kneeling by Cecil, trying desperately to pull the remote from his hand. 

Cecil's hand was clutched impossibly tight around the small white rectangle. His gaze was empty. Cecil could not hear the sound of his double's suffering, even if he could, he would not have cared. 

Two of the Secret Police unlocked the door of the broadcasting booth and handcuffed the screaming man clawing at the collar around his neck. The other pried Cecil's hand open and grabbed the remote. Then, in a practiced motion, he increased the collar's voltage. 

Kevin stopped screaming. Instead, his body convulsed on the ground as his mouth gaped in silent agony. 

The Secret Police officer only switched off the corrective device when Kevin's body went limp. 

\----------

When Maureen saw the body lying on the floor of the studio, and the blood dripping from Kevin's hands, she hesitated. In that moment of hesitation, the Secret Police hauled Kevin from the room and out of the radio station. By the time Maureen realized her mistake, the Secret Police were gone, and the EMTs had arrived. It was too late.

\----------

There was blood splattered across the walls of Kevin and Cecil's broadcasting studio. 

Kevin did not see this blood because his eyes were focused on tormentor's twisted smile. 

Cecil did not see this blood because all he could see was Kevin standing over the limp body of his husband. 

There was a red liquid pooling on the floor of the broadcasting room. 

Both Kevin and Cecil saw this red liquid. How could they not? 

\----------

When the Sheriff's Secret Police tested the blood on the walls, it matched to Night Vale citizen Carlos the Scientist Palmer. When the Sheriff's Secret Police analyzed the red liquid, it didn't match the Night Vale citizen DNA records or the NVCR employee DNA records. 

\----------

A scientist was always prepared. 

It took an hour for him to succeed, but eventually, Carlos used the paper clips he had in one of his many pockets to unlock his handcuffs. It took another hour for the scientist to break down the basement door with only a portable danger meter. 

When Carlos ran out of the basement, he ran into a stack of boxes labeled 6027 and spilled their contents all over the tiled floor. There were many fascinating graphs and scientific data printed on the papers in the box, but Carlos could not stop to look at them. He was in too much of a hurry, so the scientist just made a mental note to come back later.

As the scientist ran out of the door, and down the street, he didn't notice the angelic being wearing a hand-tailored suit coat, and nothing else, standing in front of the house. The angel watched as Carlos ran back towards the center of town and then walked into the house. The angel walked over to the mess of papers and flash drives that covered the ground and picked up a specific USB key and pocketed it. Then with a soft hum, the angel started walking over to Cecil's house. 

\----------

"Uncle Cecil? I know you are sad, but you need to eat something. Uncle Carlos wouldn't want you to be hungry." Janice's sweet voice barely managed to drag Cecil from his stupor. When she said Uncle Carlos, the radio host almost flinched. 

Cecil took a deep breath and then looked over at his niece. Her eyes were sad, but her eyebrows and lips were set in determined stubbornness. When she noticed his gaze, she held up a tray of food and pushed it into his hands. With a weak smile, Cecil took it. 

Just as the radio host ate a bite of tasteless cafeteria food, Carlos burst through the hospital room doors.  
.  
.  
.  
Cecil choked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *No one ~~important~~ we like dies.
> 
> Also I kind of feel bad for my villain. Canon Charles seems really nice. 
> 
> What can I say... he's canon-fodder. Bu-dum-tss. 
> 
> I'm sorry.


	8. Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!
> 
> Sorry for the late chapter.

It took several minutes for Cecil to recover from his choking fit. 

At the same time, Carlos walked pass the dumbfounded duo and started to examine Carlos (Charles). 

"Uncle Carlos!"

"Carlos! What! How!" Cecil's lack of breath from his coughing fit, and shock at the appearance of his supposedly dead husband, rendered him unable to string a coherent sentence together.

"Sorry, Pooh. I need to see if he is dead."

"Um. Um. What! Carlos? How?"

Carlos ignored his stammering husband's nonsensical words. Before Janice or Cecil could stop him, the scientist ruthlessly pried open the eyes of the corpse. When he observed two empty obsidian orbs combined with a lack of pulse, Carlos breathed a sigh of relief. He turned back to his stammering husband and gave him a happy kiss on the forehead. "I'm sorry I took so long to get here. I ran all the way to the station first. How did you kill him?"

After staring back and forth between the Carloses, Cecil finally regained his voice. "I didn't kill him, Kevin did." The radio show host said absentmindedly before a note of hysteria entered his voice. "Who _is_ he? He looks exactly like you. Is he your double?"

"I don't know, but I think so. I would have to perform several tests to be sure. Sorry I didn't come home last night. I really wanted to, but he kidnapped me." The scientist grabbed his husband's hand and gave it a soft squeeze.

"He did what!?!" Cecil jumped out of his chair and grabbed Carlos's shoulders, eyes wide with fear and distress.

"It's okay, I escaped. I am a scientist, and a scientist is always fine." Carlos pulled Cecil into a hug and grabbed Janice's hand. After a long hug, the scientist pulled away and looked around the room. "You said Kevin killed that monster? Where is he? I need to say thank you, without him, I doubt I would have had enough time to escape."

Cecil froze as the blood drained from his face, and the reality of his mistake came crashing down. 

"The Secret Police took him."

\------------

By the time Carlos and Cecil reached Kevin's room in the Abandoned Mine Shaft, the damage had already been done. 

The Sheriff's Secret Police officer that took them to Kevin's room said that he had already been re-educated in record-breaking time. 

All they had to do was choose one of the punishments in Kevin's handbook. The new radio host broke within ten minutes, but the Secret Police continued for another hour to be safe.

\----------

When Cecil and Carlos walked into Kevin's room, they didn't know what to do. 

The room was stark white and windowless. It smelled of disinfectant and blood. The only furniture was a king-sized bed and a metal table with a large white binder on top. 

Kevin looked so _small_ lying in that huge bed. 

The new Voice was curled up on his side in the center of the bed, clutching a little hardcover book. (Carlos could barely read the word "Handbook" emblazoned in harsh font on the top.) The new radio host's bright yellow polo and black on white striped jeans were replaced with stiff gray coveralls. His pallid skin was covered in indigo smudges that were gradually fading. The thick black band around the new Voice's neck contrasted starkly with his pale skin and clothes. 

Kevin was not sleeping. 

His pale gold eyes were dull and empty as he stared at the wall. The new radio host didn't react to Cecil and Carlos's presence until Carlos tried to touch Kevin's shoulder. With a startled flinch, the new radio host sat up with an unnatural grace. Awareness flickered on in Kevin's empty eyes, but he remained silent, still, and smileless. 

The Sheriff's Secret Police officer turned to Cecil and handed him a clipboard. 

"You need to fill out his paperwork when you get home. Just leave it on your coffee table when you are done, we'll pick it up when you aren't home." Almost as an afterthought, the officer paused before they left the room and gestured in the general direction of the bed and metal table. "Do you want help transporting it to your car?"

Cecil looked in the direction of the officer's gesture. For a moment, he was confused before his eyes caught sight of the white binder on the steel table. With a shake of his head, the radio host politely refused. "We got it, but thanks anyway."

Unsure what to do, but sure they must leave, Carlos coaxed Kevin out of bed, while Cecil picked up the binder. 

On the drive home, the car was silent, but inside all their heads, thousands of panicked thoughts raced.

\----------

(It would take months before Cecil would realize what the Secret Police officer meant by _it_. Then, in a warm silent night, the original Voice of Night Vale would quietly cry into his pillow as the horror of his doppelgänger's life sank in. 

The next day Cecil will walk up to Kevin and hug him for thirty long minutes without explanation. Kevin will be confused but happy. Cecil will never explain himself, and Kevin will never mention it. 

They will continue on with their lives, unaware of the subtle shift in the universe, and blissfully ignorant of the cliff they almost tripped over. 

But that realization is still months away. At this moment in time, Cecil is still blissfully, terribly unaware.)

\----------

It was unbearably dark during the maintenance session. The re-educators had double-blinded as a part of the correction.

The darkness reminded Kevin of sharp stinging wounds, and needles that grazed his bones, and cruel twisted words. The darkness evoked visions of Charles, and malicious Cheshire smiles. It whispered of failure and disappointment. 

Kevin couldn't breathe.

Night Vale's re-educators preferred blunt clubs over sharp implements, unlike Charles. Their corrections were simple, to the point, and silent. They were kind enough to stop after an hour. 

\----------

Kevin wasn't sure why the re-educators allowed him to rest on a heavenly soft bed or what it would cost him. But he was thankful for it none the less.

The new radio host knew he shouldn't have fought back against Charles, and that Cecil was displeased with him for harming the original radio host's lover's doppelganger. So he wasn't surprised when Carlos and Cecil walked into the room. Kevin was surprised, however, when they didn't yell or order him back to be re-educated. They just silently lead him away and loaded him into their car. 

_Are they taking me to Charles? Are they unhappy? I can't tell, which is never a good thing. I hope Charles didn't bring that thing with him._

As his thoughts spiraled, Kevin patiently waited for the other shoe to drop. 

\----------

Technically, Cecil could correct Kevin anytime, anywhere, anyway, for anything he wished. He was second in the Chain of Command, after all. Carlos, by his marriage to Cecil, was also given this privilege. They both should have known this. In fact, Kevin thought they did know.

You see, the little white box that should have been delivered to the couple's house, complete with a binder and ten white remotes, never arrived. Or rather, it did arrive but the Faceless Old Woman who Secretly Lives in Your House hid it in the freezer. (Cecil never looks in the icebox, he wasn't aware it even was a freezer for the longest time and still thinks it is possessed. Carlos never looks inside that part of the fridge simply because they never put anything in there. It was the perfect hiding spot.) So they remained blissfully unaware of the terrible power they held over Kevin.

If Carlos and Cecil had found that box and read that binder, perhaps things would have gone differently, but that story is not this story.

\---------

After Kevin, Cecil, and Carlos arrived at the couple's home, the duo sat Kevin down on their sofa before locking themselves in their bedroom. 

The original Voice dropped the binder on to their bed before spinning around to talk to Carlos. 

"What are we supposed to do! We have **Kevin** sitting in our living room!"

"I don't know, but you need to apologize to him."

"How!"

When Cecil's hysterical voice echoed through the house, Kevin grimaced and slid off the couch. Unseen, the silent radio host gracefully crawled to the center of the room and then kneeled on the tiled floor. 

\----------

Halfway between Charles's temporary house and the Palmers' home, an angelic being wearing nothing but a hand-tailored coat and nothing else, leisurely walked through Night Vale. In the angel's pocket was a flash drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I have another series I am dying to write but I also want to finish this one first. So question:  
> Would you rather have a positive but open ending that would end before the new series?  
> Or a completely happy ending that would end after I post the first few chapters of the new series?


	9. Desert Dessert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am exhausted.
> 
> There is yelling at end.

The Smiling God was not a deity. It wasn’t even alive. It was an entire universe, a realm permeated with light and death, and suffering that slipped into other worlds to steal life. It did not want anything, but suffering fed its power. 

_“The power of the Smiling  
God is an endless flow. It ebbs like the  
tides, but like the tides, it returns.” _

Kevin used to be the Smiling God’s favorite apostle. His pain tolerance was so deliciously low. The exquisite pain he felt tearing apart the lives, and bodies, of his loved ones, tasted like a rich Creme Brule. The agony reflected in his eyes, but not on his lips, smelled like freshly baked cookies. Kevin experienced pain so wonderfully that the Smiling God had no reason to move past Desert Bluffs for years. 

Unfortunately, every year, the Voice increased his pain tolerance, and bit by bit the Smiling God lost interest. It felt the breaks in Kevin's soul and decided it wanted something else to eat. It decided it wanted Night Vale. 

_I rarely feel anything. I rarely feel anything at all._

—————

_Subject 6027_

_-Creation Date: Unknown  
-Age: Unknown_

_-Strexcorp Acquisition Date: XX January XX05  
-Eye color: Yellow  
-Body Type: 5  
-BMI: 20  
-Pain tolerance: 3/10_

_-Re-education End Date: XX June XX06  
-Eye color: Strex Standard  
-Body Type: 2  
-BMI: 14  
-Pain tolerance: 8/10_

_-Sale date: X4 July XX16  
-Remodel Date: X9 July XX16  
-Eye color: natural  
-Body Type: 4  
-BMI: 17  
-Pain tolerance: 10/10_

_Any damages on the subject after it has arrived will not be covered by Strexcorp._

—————

Kevin tried to calm his racing heart, but it was hard.

5: Sight  
The Palmer’s floor was new, every tile was a soft matte grayish white but only half of them sparkled in the afternoon’s light. Human and cat hair were strewn across the floor and whirled in unknowable messages. The ceiling was conventional and the same color as the walls. The bedroom door was oak and hinged and closed. The Faceless Old Woman leaned down from the ceiling.  
4: Touch  
The ground was cold and hard. An itch appeared everywhere his coveralls brushed. The collar was as always felt cold no matter the room temperature. The Faceless Old Woman’s fingers ran through his hair.  
3: Hearing  
The wind shifted through the Palo trees outside the bay windows. The muffled sound of Cecil and Carlos fighting leaked from underneath the bedroom door. The Faceless Old Woman whispered secrets she thought he couldn’t hear.  
2: Smell  
The room smelled of lemons. His skin still carried the faint stench of iron.  
1: Taste  
Blood. 

—————

The bedroom door slammed open and Kevin staggered to his feet. Carlos didn’t notice and walked past the new radio host into the kitchen, eyebrows scrunched and lips pursed. Over his shoulder, the scientist threw a sentence that was almost a command. 

“Kevin. Help me make dinner.”

The new Voice looked between the twisting shadows cast by Cecil’s silhouette and the scientist’s tense shoulders. He followed Carlos into the kitchen and tried very hard not to think about the shadows he saw. 

A sharp sensation pierced through Kevin’s heart and crept along his shoulders as the gaze of his “double” burned a hole into him. The new radio host followed Carlos as a Strex-approved smile stretched across his face without a thought.

—————

Dinner was made without a word as Kevin and Carlos stepped back into the rhythm they walked in the Desert Otherworld. Carlos cooked the meat because Kevin always made it too bloody. And the new radio host prepared the fruits and vegetables because the scientist always tried to cut them into scientifically symmetrical shapes. 

Cecil grumbled to Aubergine during the entire creation of dinner. Aubergine was fine with this and willing to listen, as long as the Voice continued to pet him. However, as soon as Carlos said dinner was ready, the puppy betrayed the radio host for the smell of steak. 

The original radio host pouted but eventually surrendered to his rumbling stomach. 

\----------

The table was set for two, Carlos sat in the first seat and Cecil, unphased, sat in the second. Kevin sat in the living room. 

"Kevin, would you like to join us?" Carlos asked as he always did in the Desert Otherworld. 

The new radio host responded as he always did. "That would be lovely, but no thank you. I will eat later." A perpetual smile in place just like in the town-that-almost-was. 

This routine was familiar, and neither Kevin nor Carlos felt that anything was wrong.

(*Heavy, awkward silence, as Cecil and Carlos ate with fervor and didn't look into each other's eyes.* This lasted for three minutes before Cecil broke down, and apologized as tears ran messy trails down his face.)

Kevin walked into the living room and kneeled in front of a window. His fingers twitched against his thigh as the soft urge to twirl his favorite dagger drifted across his mind. Kevin smashed this impulse as soon as it appeared. _Carlos hates knives._ As he listened to the calming chatter of relaxed voices that flowed from across the hall, the new Voice's head bobbed as he resisted sleep, but the battle was lost. 

Five minutes later, Kevin's head rested on the cool glass of the window as his breath created soft grey gradients. (The radio host dreamed of a sweet smile, candied camellias and .) He did not hear the couple make up. He did not see an angelic being wearing nothing but a hand-tailored coat walk up the Palmers' driveway. 

Cecil and Carlos did not see Kevin leaning against the window, they thought he had gone home. They didn't see the practically naked angel phase through their front door, nod to the Faceless Old Woman, and place a flash drive on their kitchen counter. 

\----------

3:33 am

*rapid knocking*

"HOW the HELL did you get to the abandoned mineshaft BEFORE me!?! And WHY is KEVIN SLEEPING ON THE FLOOR?!?! I can see him through the window, lying on your HARD, TILE, FLOOR! Let me in, you assholes!!!!"

*deep breath* 

*more rapid knocking*

"LET ME IN! I know you can hear me, Cecil! I can see your tentacles moving in the bedroom window! I need to check on Kevin!"

Carlos slept through the din because he could sleep through anything. 

Kevin continued sleeping because he couldn't wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nobody dies. (I think.)
> 
> ((Probably.))

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry.
> 
> You can yell at me in the comments.


End file.
